


Duyên

by Jentrevellan



Series: Lyla Lavellan [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Change in Relationship, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Touching Hands, Uncertainty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 01:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13377537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jentrevellan/pseuds/Jentrevellan
Summary: Inquisitor Lyla Lavellan finds herself alone in the Commander’s office, without the Commander.





	Duyên

**Author's Note:**

> Duyên (n). A predestined affinity; the force that binds two people as friends or lovers in the future. (Vietnamese)

She takes in his office - the tidy bookshelves on warfare, the neat desk of reports and the stacks of paperwork unsorted on the floor. The room is bare, but he only moved into his new office a few days ago. Still, Lyla can’t help but try and memorise every detail. It is empty and she is alone, yet it is clearly his office and his haven. She steps lightly over a stack of unsorted books and brushes her fingers idly against the spines of the thick tomes, breathing in their smell. There’s something quite homey and… safe about being here. It feels like a little refuge but she can’t quite place why that may be.

Lyla tugs her hair behind her ears and leans against the desk, gazing out of the arrow slit windows overlooking the entrance. She cocks her head to the side and studies the view - of course he would pick the tower where he can monitor every coming and going of the fort. With a small thrill, she realises that he will always know when she’s returning from a journey or mission. Why does that make her stomach flutter?

It feels like a constant presence, this feeling inside. Her head feels light and she can’t concentrate sometimes. Creators, what was wrong with her? The last thing she needs to be worrying about is whether feelings are reciprocated! But she can’t help it, as she sits down in the chair behind his desk and makes herself comfortable. Banishing the thought of what he would say if he came in now to see her sat at his desk, she looks up past the ladder to see the late afternoon sun streaming in.

Curiosity picks at her, but she is enjoying the comfort of the chair, silently relishing the fact that she is alone, in his rooms. She remembers their talks by the frozen lake in Haven - how they were starting to get to know one another before it was, well buried under the snow. Lyla thinks back to when she found the camp after Haven. How he had been the one to find her, and - she’s pretty certain - he was the one who had carried her to the healer’s tent. The first few nights in the camp were hard to remember, but she cannot forget the feel of warmth, the soft fur of his mantle and the sensation of feeling… secure, despite everything. Perhaps there was even a whisper of her name on his lips, but she had been delirious at the time.

She glances up at the ladder and the enticing light. What is up there, she wonders. Chewing her bottom lip, she finally gets up and strides over to the ladder, putting a hesitant hand on the first rung.

The door beside her flies open and Cullen walks in, busily reading a report in his hand that he doesn’t even see her standing here, with a hand on the ladder. She snaps is away in a swift movement that gets his attention.

“Inquisitor!” he exclaims, dropping his reports.

Lyla suppresses a chuckle at his reaction, and can feel her face flushing. “Commander! Sorry, I was just passing through, and - let me help you with those,” she says, crouching next to him.

He is mumbling apologies under his breath, which she can feel on her cheek. Her hands are busy picking up reports and a jolt runs through her when their hands touch under a stack of papers. She pauses and looks up at him, their fingers just touching. His lands are hidden in leather, but surprisingly warm. Their eyes meet and is it just her, or did his gaze soften? She looks away and yet their fingers remain, slowly becoming entwined. She is not sure who is tying them up - it could be her or him, or perhaps both of them?

Her mind wonders as the moment stretches on. What would his hands feel like, if they weren’t in his leather gloves? What would he do if she started to tug on the fingertips and slowly drag them off? All at once, her mind burns with image and scenarios that thrill her; igniting a fire she did not know was kindling. He was filling her senses with this close proximity - the smell of oakmoss, the feel of his warm breath on her cheek; a thumb gently rubbing over her knuckles. She wondered what that scar on his lip would feel like, if she touched it.

Lyla lets out a sigh she didn’t realise she had been holding and gently tugs her hand away. Every bone in her body protests, but she cannot, must not, let her emotions get involved. He’s the Commander and she’s the Inquisitor. Not to mention that she’s a Dalish Mage, and he’s an ex-Templar. It’s ridiculous…

Perhaps he’s thinking the same. Creators, what she would give to know his thoughts! For he stands abruptly, picking up the remaining reports and turns away. She slowly gets to her feet, looking at his back, trying to ignore the feelings that are welling inside of her.

“I… I should go,” she says softly. He looks at her over his shoulder and before she can falter, Lyla backs out of the door, closing it gently behind her. On the other side, she rests her back to the wood and slides to the floor, looking up at the cloudless sky. Little does she know that Cullen stands on the other side, his hand on the latch, but not opening it, his head resting against the wood. 


End file.
